


In Season

by teaandcharcoal



Series: Trans!Dave [5]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aftercare, Breeding Kink, Bulges and Nooks, Eggpreg, Felching, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Kid Fic, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Oviposition, Polyamory, Pregnant Sex, Trans Male Character, Xenophilia, its between dave and karkat as teens, the actual smut takes place when they're adults, trans!Dave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-09-14 16:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9191933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaandcharcoal/pseuds/teaandcharcoal
Summary: When you and Karkat were just starting out, you accidentally made him lay eggs. You may have freaked out a little, but the two of you got rid of them and everything was fine.But give it eight years (or five thousand and eight years, depending on how you count) and things change. Because now there are mothergrubs, and now Karkat's had that adult molt. And with it being an option, Karkat's enamored with the idea of properly contributing to a brood.Alternate Title: Karkat has Eggs, Dave has Feelings, and John just Wants Everyone to be Happy





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I am well aware it is 2017, but there's not enough happy homestuck breeding fics. A lot of angst, not a lot of consent. I wanted to fix that. 
> 
> Also, I might write about Dave getting his T at some point, but it's a lot of goofing around and teasing and waiting forever in doctors offices (Dave knows. He counted.)

About a month after you and Karkat had your first awkward tumble in the sheets you decided you wanted top him and do it right. So with just a tiny bit of spare grist you made yourself a harness and a fake troll bulge to go with it. You had to guess a little bit on what a bulge is really supposed to look like. You did your research with some of Karkat's awful books and based it on what you felt (And hoo boy you've felt a lot), but you'd never actually _seen_ a real bulge with your own eyes  and since that would involve being naked with the lights on you decided it wasn't gonna happen any time soon. It took a little bit of fiddling, but eventually you felt pretty confident. The thrashing motion wasn't quite right, but it was the best you could do. When Karkat got a good look at it he nearly pissed himself with excitement and dragged you off to his bedroom. Plus, he sure seemed like he was having a great time if the noises he made and the scratches on your back afterwards were any indication.

It's been two weeks since then and he's acting weird. Like, weird even for Karkat. The first few days he was really, _really_ cuddly. He wouldn't lay off of you for more than like five minutes at a time, and you don't wanna think about how much worse it would have been if you didn't eventually just let him abscond with the bulge you made. Then one evening it just stopped. He wouldn't speak to you or make eye contact, but when he thought you weren't looking he would alternate between glaring daggers at you and shrinking with nervousness. You tried to confront him about it, but he just walked off without saying a word.

Even if you were good at deep, unironic heart to hearts (pfft, yeah right), if he was refusing to talk to you what choice did you have? You can't force him to open up. But now you're starting to worry enough that you're seriously considering that heart to heart. He's been gone for five days now. You banged on his door time and time again, but he won't open it. The only person who gets to go in is Kanaya, who enters a few times every day with food. You've tried asking her, but she says "it's not my place to say but there's nothing to worry about" in a way that strongly suggests that there is something to worry about that's so bad she can't even tell you.

You haven't slept. You can't. Your brain keeps tying itself in knots thinking of a million what ifs whenever you try to close your eyes. You stumble through the halls like a zombie. You've walked into Rose like six times and tripped over the poor Mayor twice. Well, the good news is that if you actually die of exhaustion you'll probably just come right back, since you can't imagine it'd be heroic or just.

Unless maybe you hurt Karkat. You've tried picturing your every interaction when he was in super cuddle mode, but you can't imagine what you did. Unless there was something to do with offering him the bulge? Was it some kind of weird _faux pas_ in troll culture to give your partner a sex toy you made? He didn't seem to object at the time.

Then Kanaya appears and grabs you by the shoulders.

"You need to see Karkat," she says flatly. There are bags under her eyes.

"You finally gonna tell me what's wrong with him?" you ask.

"I can't. I promised him I would not. But suffice it to say, he's driving me out of my thinkpan. I'm not his moirail and this is more matesprit territory anyway. Please, Dave, go see him."

"Whatever it takes," you say. "I mean, it's about time."

"I'll say. Follow me if you'd please."

She turns on her heel and wordlessly you trail her back to Karkat's bedroom.

"Karkat!" She cries, knocking on the door. "It's me."

The door slides open. Karkat is buried up to his chest in a pile of discarded clothes and bed sheets, door remote in his hand. "Good, did you bring the-" He looks over and sees you and freezes. The remote falls to the floor with a clatter.

"Have fun, you two." She shoves you forward and closes the door.

Karkat just gapes at you for a moment.

"Uh, hi," you say. Like an idiot.

He hisses and scuttles backwards until he's completely buried.

"Sorry, she said you wanted to see me," okay, it's not quite true. But it was her idea so close enough.

"Figures. The turd-licking bitch." His voice is muffled under all the cloth. "I trusted her to help me deal with not starving to death, and this is what I get? Fucking betrayed by the one person on this damn meteor I thought could keep a fucking secret."

"I mean, if it helps she didn't tell me anything. Just said I should talk to you." You walk over and press down lightly on the side of the pile to make sure there wasn't a limb somewhere in there before plopping your ass down. "You… You wanna talk about it?"

"No! Go away!"

Oh fuck, he's sobbing. Your chest _aches_ and you're pretty sure it's not because you left your binder on too long (for once).

"Baby, don't be like that. It's okay, I'm here." You start pulling a few pieces of cloth from the top of the pile.

"That's the problem! I-" He chokes a little. "I don't want you to see me like this."

You try to play off your concern with a chuckle. "Can't be any worse than the time you tried Twinkies and your entire body was one gross peeling rash for days." You keep disassembling the pile.

"It is!"

You've hit paydirt. A pair of angry yellow eyes glows up at you in the darkness, and you remove a few more things to get a better look at his face. Other than emotional distress, he looks fine. "Seriously dude, what's going on?"

He bits his lip. "You're not gonna go away until I talk, are you?"

"No."

"I-" he looks away and his voice falls to a hoarse whisper. "I fucked up."

A million scenarios flash through your head. Everything from going on a murderous rampage in a dream bubble to horrific accident involving him losing both of his legs to getting super drunk on soda and sleeping with Rose. But no, you thought of that shit already. Be prepared, like you were in the boy scouts or something. "Whatever it is it'll be okay."

"Yeah, it will. In just a few days. Go away until then!"

"Not good enough. Time for twenty questions. Is this a troll thing?"

"Obviously," he grumbles.

"Does it have to do with me?"

He flinches. "Yeah…"

"Shit, did you basically troll-propose to me and have it go right over my head?"

"Propose what?" He turns back towards you.

"Getting," it sticks on your tongue for a second. "Getting married."

He raises an eyebrow. "The fuck is married?"

"Okay, apparently not. That was mostly a joke anyway. Remember jokes?"

"Yes, and I remember your pathetic attempts at making them!" He growls.

"Bro, I'm hilarious and you know it. Also that totally didn't count as a question. We break some kind of sex taboo?"

He inhales sharply and tries to bury himself further.

"Fuck, I- Karkat, why didn't you tell me?"

"…I didn't notice. I didn't notice until it was too late and now… Dave, you're a mammal so I don't think you'd get it."

You laugh. "What? I accidentally knock you up somehow? I knew that bulge was good but I didn't realize it was _that_ realistic."

"Well…" he nibbles on his lower lip."If that means what I think it does… kind of."

Wait, _what?!_ "No way. You have to be pulling my leg, right?"

He shakes his head.

Karkat sighs and crosses his arms. "If anything that damn bulge was too accurate. The damn thing pushed right past my seedflap and I didn't even notice because it felt too damn good and now I've got a gut full of eggs to deal with."

"Fucking God. I seriously did get you pregnant," you finally say.  

You run your fingers through your hair. "Shit, man, how are we gonna care for weird troll-human hybrid things?" You're trying to keep the desperation out of your voice and failing.

Karkat scowls and pushes himself up. "Don’t be dumb. I'm not a mother grub!"

He says that, but his lower belly is visibly distended, even under his loose sweater. Your blood runs cold and your stomach churns. If you were standing there's like at least a thirty percent chance you would have just fainted. You open your mouth but you can't say anything. Because, seriously, the fuck do you say in this situation? For _some odd reason_ , Bro had never given you a talk or a carefully placed informational booklet on what to do when _you_ accidentally got your partner pregnant. But he didn't leave you a xenophilia one either, so hello uncharted waters. You try to sputter something out, but your head is spinning and your stomach is churning and you are altogether at a complete loss of words.

"Shit, I- Dave, listen." His expression goes all soft. Like you're the one who's- who's… You close your eyes and rub your forehead. He reaches out and takes your free hand "I'm not a mammal. Being gravid isn't anything like being pregnant. It's closer to one of your human 'periods' okay? Your body thinks you're going to reproduce and then you don't. It's just… a little more embarrassing. Most people slip up and make themselves gravid out of season once or twice, but it makes you look like a- it's kind of thought of as-" He groans. "Just don't tell Vriska or Terezi, please?"

 "I won't." You take a deep breath. Okay, trolls take period bloating up to eleven. If you think about it that way, it's okay. He's not even really that big. Think about it like that and chill the fuck out, you big baby. "So what happens next?"

He shrugs. "I'll lay in a day or two and then we'll find some way to get rid of the eggs. There's no point in keeping them around. Even if we had a mother grub ready, they're not going to be viable yet anyway since I haven't had my adult molt."

He's trying to play it cool, but there's something pleading in his weird grey-red marbled eyes. And even if he couldn't pull it off to a blind and deaf hermit who'd never seen another living being in his whole existence, maybe you can. So shake it off, Strider. He needs you.

So you smirk at him. "Alright, seeing as this is kinda my fault, I'll take responsibility and make an honest man out of you, Karkles."

"What are you talking about?"

"I take my duty as baby daddy seriously, thank you very much. I will protect you with my life from this day forth, my delicate flower."

He hits you with a pillow so hard your shades fly off. There we go. You're pretty sure at this point an annoyed Karkat is somehow a happy Karkat. Or at least it's not a scared one.

True to his prediction, he lays two days later. You were expecting it to be a bigger thing but, nope, apparently he just got up in the middle of the day and did it. When you woke up his stomach was flat and there were four red spheres a little bigger than golf balls just sitting in the tub. The two of you poked holes in them and drained the liquid so you could more covertly get rid of the membranes and it was, in fact, fine.

* * *

But give it eight years (or five thousand and eight years, depending on how you count) and things change. Because now there _are_ mothergrubs, and now Karkat's had that adult molt. And with it being an option, Karkat's enamored with the idea of properly contributing to a brood.

You passed it up the first few times. The first couple years getting integrated were rough. It probably didn't help that you decided that the second you had access to T was the best time to put yourself through second puberty (spoilers: it wasn't. But no one died and you're pretty happy with the end result, so whatever). But then when shit settled down, the three of you talked it over and decided it would be okay. After all, John had always wanted to be a dad and you… you could learn to be less of an asshole than your bro was. And this might just be your ovaries talking, but damn if the little wiggly bastards aren't cute. Like, Rose keeps sending you pictures of herself covered in grubs and you can't help but be a little jealous. Especially because you got to hold one this one time and they're actually pretty soft and just a little bit furry and the lowbloods are so warm and they have these big old button eyes and you'd never admit this out loud to Karkat, but they are in fact absolutely better than human babies in every possible way.

You can tell when the season’s about to come because he starts nesting. All of the pillows and blankets in the house wind up in a big pile on and around the bed and he likes to curl up right in the middle like a kitten. It's adorable. Especially when he and John snuggle up together. You, of course, take about fifty pictures. So fucking precious

After the nesting comes the touching. He doesn’t even seem to realize he’s doing it, but his fingertips brush against the both of you more often, and when he purposefully puts a hand on you he leaves it there longer. Whenever he’s alone with either of you he happily climbs into your laps and rests his head on your shoulder or John’s chest. All the while when he gets comfortable he lets out these soft little high-pitched noises. It’s probably supposed to be attractive with the whole pity kink his entire species has. In humans it invokes less of a “come take me” and more of a “pinch my cheeks and squeeze me until my eyes pop out.” Thankfully, you manage not to say that out loud, so Karkat doesn't maul you.

And then the actual season hits. You and John are in the living room playing video games when Karkat comes out wearing nothing but a black silk robe. The material clings to him, showing off his gorgeous, compact frame. He drapes himself across the doorway dramatically and purrs, looking over at the two of you through his thick eyelashes. It's hard to be sure through the tinted glass, but you think he might even be wearing a bit of makeup, like you and John don't think he's sexy enough without. He definitely tried to manage his hair. You mourn the noble sacrifice of the poor combs. It must have been a great battle.

You wolf-whistle at him, and can practically hear the record scratch. He scowls and stands up straight. “Dammit, Dave. I was trying to set a mood.”

Then John notices. “Oh hi, Karkat! You look nice!”

Karkat rubs his forehead. “I can’t believe I sleep with you two idiots.”

“Oh, should I have said hot instead?”

“With that tone I don’t think it would have mattered,” you point out.

“Right, okay, take two.” John stands and rolls his shoulders.

You can’t see his face, but he stands and Karkat basically swoons, so there’s probably bedroom eyes involved.

“I meant it, though,” he murmurs as he approaches your troll. “You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

Oh fuck yes. You love it when John lets his voice slip down low. You love it even more when it’s all rough and gravelly after a good fuck, but when he’s being all smooth and soft with the promise of pleasure… He could quote memes at you all day and it’d still be hot.

Actually, scratch that. That’s something he would totally do and even if you could hold it together Karkat would start screeching with indignity and then you wouldn't get laid.

John puts his hands on Karkat’s hips and kisses him soft and sweet. Karkat starts purring again and throws his arms up over John’s shoulders. As nice as it is to watch, you want in. You drop the controller and get to your feet. When you pass John he looks at you out of the corner of his eye and smiles into the kiss. You get behind Karkat and slip your arms between the two of them. Karkat sighs happily as you press up against his back, but that turns into a moan as you bite his neck.

“Don’t worry,” John says. “We’re gonna be good to you, baby. Treat you just like you want. Just like you deserve.”

“Please…” Karkat breathes back.

“Please what?”

“For someone who opened with ‘hi, karkat, you look nice,’ you sure are getting into the dirty talk,” Karkat grumbles.

“Come on, honey," you tease, “You should know better. That ain’t dirty talk. That’s normal talk in a sexy voice. Dirty talk is telling you how we’re gonna use you, cause John and I have it all planned out. It's telling you how I’m gonna sit on your face while John fucks you long and hard and then after he uses you as a bucket we’re gonna switch and I’ll get out fake bulge 2.0 and make you cum screaming while John sucks your horns. After that we'll have John finger you, just to be sure. Press up and in until he’s deeper inside of you than any living thing’s ever been. You want that, sexy?”

Your voice is so much better for this than it used to be. You can go even lower than John now, and you love how it reverberates deep in your chest when you purr to your partners. It just feels right. John and Karkat aren’t used to it, and to be fair neither are you, but they both look at you with awe and arousal. Karkat’s blushing so brightly his cheeks are practically glowing and he gives you a slack-jawed, wide-eyed look.

“I don’t know about him,” John murmurs, nuzzling him gently, “But I like that idea.”

Both of you look at your troll and it takes a minute for Karkat to figure out that you’re waiting for him. He startles a bit, like enthusiastic consent isn’t something all three of you ask for all the time. “Yeah, I-I want it.”

“Good," you whisper, licking the shell of his ear.

You take a step back and let John pick him up bridal style. Karkat gazes up at both of you, eyes glazed over in lust. Shit, he's completely lost already and he hasn’t even been touched yet. Fuck, you love the season. It’s hard to tell since the robe was black to start with, but you think you can see a wet spot between his legs. You brush his thigh lightly, and see some quick, fluid movement near his crotch. Oh yeah, that’s definitely a free bulge.

“Dave, can you get the door?” John asks.

You tear your eyes away from Karkat to get a few steps ahead and throw open the door to the second bedroom. John sets Karkat in the middle of the massive bed, the plastic wrap crinkling slightly under the sheets whenever they shift. You tear off your clothes as John takes care of Karkat, kissing him and running his hands up and down his body.

“I want a turn,” you whine, coming up beside him.

John pulls away to laugh and Karkat whimpers at the loss. Poor thing needs some comforting, and you're gonna be the one to give it to him. You smooth your body down over his, running your fingers along the base of his horns. His bulge runs along your thigh, leaving a hot, slippery trail on your skin.

Karkat swallows. “Actually, I, uh-“ You pull back to look at him. “I want to fuck you this first round. Is that okay?”

“Yeah." You wet your lips. "You know, for a moment there I thought you were gonna ask me to stop."

He snorts. “Fuck no, not during the season. Not when you’re gonna fill me up until I make so many eggs I can’t move.”

The image comes into your head unbidden, and the fire that had been growing in your gut is doused with ice water. But Karkat doesn’t seem to realize that it wasn’t a good shudder that went through you. He grabs your hips and kisses you, rough and passionate.

 _Relax,_ you think, _this isn’t about you, dammit._

And it’s still kind of nice. Karkat always feels so good under you, and he kisses you like you’re the only source of air in the world. Yeah, you can get back into this. Your muscles relax and you melt back into him. His bulge isn’t sliding up like it usually does. He’s still waiting for permission. He wants your nook, and when he asked he didn't specify where he wanted to fuck you, so he’s waiting. You reach down and gently prod the tentadick upward. It slides into you, warm and flexible and familiar. You scoot down a little bit further so Karkat can fill you better and, more importantly, his other tendrils can wrap around your dick. They’re so small, so delicate they actually make you feel big. He coils inside of you, pressing up against all your favorite places and starts to rub you just right.

John’s footsteps are barely audible over the wet sloppy noises of Karkat's thrashing. “Gosh, just look at you two… So amazing. Still can’t believe I’m here with you.”

Karkat’s entire bulge pulses, pulling a gasp out of you. You're pretty sure you feel a little spurt of material start leaking out of you. Fuck, you love how into this shit he is. But instead of responding saccharine, he swallows and says, “Okay, but can you be here more in the direction of my nook? Thought you were gonna fuck me.”

“At this angle? I don’t think so, dude.”

Karkat whines, like that will suddenly make John’s dick prehensile enough to get into his nook while he’s laying flat on the bed. You roll over, taking Karkat with you. Fuck he wasn’t joking about wanting something in his nook, was he? Now that he’s on top you can feel him dripping all over your thighs. From the foot of the bed John must be getting what looks like the money shot from a really cheap x-rated slasher film, with a weird tangle of limbs and Karkat spewing Monty Python quality blood all over the two of you. But maybe that’s his fetish or something, because he climbs up over the two of you, murmuring soft praises. Can ace people have fetishes? Is that a thing? No matter how often John explains how he feels or why he's willing to have sex with you guys you still feel like you're missing something. 

Karkat's head is blocking your view of whatever John’s doing to bring out those gorgeous sex noises, but you can't complain. Your view's pretty great as it is. Karkat's eyes are squeezed shut in pleasure, lips slightly parted and flush all across his cheeks. The ceiling lamp is right behind him, giving him a little halo effect behind his messy hair, like some kind of sexy angel.

Ooh, that's a thought for later. Note to self: get Karkat a sexy angel costume. And finger him until it's pink.

 John’s hands are hot and solid on your thighs. He tries to push them apart, but he slips because of all the Karkat juice. So you help him out and then he moves Karkat’s (much drier) legs, giving him plenty of space to settle behind the two of you. Karkat keens and his bulge pulses inside of you again. You gasp and grip the sheets. Holy shit, whatever John's doing has to be good. You briefly wonder if he’s using his fingers or his tongue, because he’s unfairly good with both of them.

He puts his hands on Karkat’s hips and leans forward. He licks his lips, cleaning off most of the red. You shudder at the sight of the two of them. “God, you’re so loose already,” he murmurs. “You want this so badly, don’t you, baby?”

Karkat whines and arches back against him, depriving you of about half an inch of premium bulge. No! Not when you're this close. Eloquent as always, you grab your troll and tug him back down. His bulge thrashes inside of you and the other tentacles squeeze your dick. Every muscle in your body goes taut and you come with a wordless groan.

Karkat keeps his main tendril inside of you, but at least he's still got the control to lay off of your dick for a second. You feel warm, a little bit soft, but you're not quite done yet. You take a few gasping breaths and try to calm yourself down just a little bit so you can get back into it.

“Shit you’re such a slut,” you whisper once you feel like your dick's recovered enough. “One of us isn’t good enough for you, huh?” He latches right back on and you gasp. Okay, maybe you're not quite recovered. It's a lot, but just on the good side of it, not quite pushing over into pain.

"How's he feel, Karkat?" John asks, teasingly stroking Karkat's sides. "Is he nice and tight for you?"

“Please,” Karkat whines. “Please, John. Dave feels so good, but I- I need something in my nook.”

“As you wish,” he says because he’s a fucking meme, but he goes back to kneeling so he can guide his dick into your boyfriend.

Karkat moans like a grade-A pornstar and he collapses down onto you, completely boneless as John starts rocking into him. He looks completely spent from the outside, but his bulge is rubbing against your walls like it’s a fucking cat and you’re the owner it hasn’t seen in ages.

“Dave, that wasn’t-?” John asks.

“Hnng-! Not yet."

“Okay, cool. So now I’ve just gotta…” He tries a couple of different angles before Karkat gasps and claws at your chest. 

“There?” He asks, expression on his face saying he knows damn well it is.

“Almost,” Karkat says. “Just a little bit deeper. Push.”

“Won’t that hurt?” He asks.

“It’s not a fucking cervix, it’s a seedflap and it’s made for- oh fuck!”

John pulls out and slams in all the way to his base. Karkat goes completely still. Even his bulge stops thrashing. Then John carefully, tentatively rolls his hips again and there go the floodgates.

All you can process is heat and pressure. It’s more than getting fisted. More than having them fuck you together. Karkat rarely comes in your front, he hasn't done it at all since you've been on T, and it fucking _hurts._ It pushes harder and harder, upwards like it’s trying to shoot out of your fucking nose. You scramble backwards until his bulge can’t make a seal anymore and his material pours out onto the bed. You think it looks like a lot more than usual too.

“Shit! Dave, are you okay?” John asks. One nook-slick hand touches your cheek. Ew.

“Yeah, I- it was just a lot.”

Karkat’s still shuddering over you, and you can feel pulse after pulse of come squirt up into you before dribbling out. It’s wet and it’s gross and the noises Karkat are making sound almost pained.

John pulls out and moves to the side. “Is… is he gonna be okay?” He nibbles on his lower lip nervously.

“I think so? I’m trying to remember what happened last time.” You stroke his back gently, rubbing little circles into his shoulder blades. He came a lot, and there was crying involved but…

The noises die down and start getting distinctly happier. He's stopped coming, but his bulge doesn't immediately pull back.

"You okay, Karkat?" John asks. "Can you words?"

"Yeah… It's just… Holy shit."

"You think so?" You ask, smirking up at him.

"Shhh," he replies, papping you softly.

"You quadrant-smearing fucker," you tease.

"It's not my fault you're a bad influence," he grumbles. "But, uh, I'm sorry I didn't warn you in time. I kind of forgot how good it felt."

"Don't worry about it. That _is_ what the plastic wrap is for. "

He makes a small affirmative sound and then turns to John. "Hey," he says softly.

"Hey," John leans in and rubs their noses together. "You want a lift to the shower?"

"No. I was actually thinking…" He glances down towards John's crotch and his bulge actually gives a spirited wiggle inside of you. What in the-? "Would you actually be up for round two right away?"

John blinks. "Are you?"

"Yeah. I know it's weird, but yeah." He pushes himself up and puts his arms over John's shoulders. "I want more."

"O-okay."

John settles himself down, sitting with his back pressed against the headboard. Karkat scrambles over and hovers over John's lap, licking his lips as John lines them up. With a moan from both parties, Karkat sinks down onto John's cock.

You sit up and scoot away from the puddle of troll spunk so you can both get a better view and also not be in a puddle of troll spunk. But oh wow, this is nice. John has Karkat's bulge tangled in his fingers, and he plays with it deftly without taking his eyes off of the troll's face. But you're not that strong, and you stare down at where the lips of Karkat's nook are drawn tight around John's base. They start to move, slowly at first, and you watch as Karkat slides up, revealing inch after inch of cock before slamming back down.

 You've been in both of their positions before, and you can't help but touch yourself as you imagine how they must feel. You lightly press your thumb against your dick and slip two fingers past your folds, pretending they're John's dick, nice and thick with just a little bit of curve. Karkat arches and keens while John lets out those little huffs he makes when he's trying to keep it together. You don't even fucking bother. You're watching the two sexiest guys in all the universes you've been two fuck each other and no one's allowed to make you feel bad for the torrent of praises coming out of your mouth.

"God you guys are so hot. Fucking perfection.  How'd you get this pretty by pressing random buttons on an ectomachine, you guys? I'm not gonna believe that both of you weren't all like 'I'm gonna carefully set this up so I'm about fifteen times sexier than any other male of my respective species ever could theoretically become. Like, take that 'add sexy' button and press it over and over again for _years."_

"Next time we gag him," Karkat grumbles.

John giggles, because that is _absolutely_ what Egberts do when they're balls-deep in pussy. "You're so mean, Karkat!"

"Yeah, Karkat, why are you such an asshole?"

"Because you won't shut up and let me enjoy alien bulge!"

"Aw, you're not having fun?" John asks. "What if I just…"

You're not sure exactly what he does but Karkat screams and scratches at John's chest for purchase. John pulls away from Karkat's bulge, letting it flail around uselessly between their bellies. Instead, he puts his big strong hands on Karkat's hips and starts guiding him.

"Fuck, Karkat," he breathes, throwing his head back. "If you keep doing that you're gonna make me come."

"Good. Dave promised me you'd use me as a bucket. Shit-!"

"You're fucking filthy today," you tell him. "Quadrant smearing, needing two guys on you at once, then begging to be a fucking mammal's bucket. What other sexy cullable offenses you got up your sleeve?"

He throws his head back and moans.

"We're washing the sheets anyway," You say. "Wanna come all over John too?"

John whines.

"Look at him." You reach over and tangle the fingers of your free hand in Karkat's bulge. "He's so close. And he's the only one who hasn't gotten off here tonight. So you'd better finish the job, or maybe next time I'll take him for myself and you won't even get to try to be his bucket. Is that better or worse, I wonder…."

"Dave!" John gasps out.

He lets out a huff, then a high whine and grips Karkat's thighs tightly. You don't have to ask to know that means he finished. And that sets Karkat off, making him spill all over the bed. Again. God, you might actually have to burn these sheets. And hey, since this is already a huge mess… You start pumping your fingers in and out more quickly. Yeah, there we go… You want to close your eyes, but you can't look away from the scene before you.

Karkat purrs contentedly. This time, his bulge does reel itself back in. He lifts himself up, letting John's softening cock slip out. He purrs and nuzzles into John's chest, tangling his slurry-covered fingers in the sparse covering of hair. John smiles over at you, gentle and sweet. He reaches over and grabs a vibrator out of the bedside table. It's one of your favorites, the nice wide purple one with the weird ridges on the sides. He holds it out, offering it to you. Karkat blinks slowly, a dazed smile on his face.

You take it and slide it inside, letting out a contented sigh as it fills you. John leans over and gives you a little kiss before flicking the toy on.

For a second, with the way they're looking at you, it's almost like you aren't at the tail end of a seriously debauched threesome. It almost feels right, wholesome.

It's hard to get a good grip on the toy. Everything's so slick with Karkat's come. Eventually you give up, grabbing one of the washcloths Karkat had thought to prep. Not like it'll actually be able to make a dent in this mess. But it gives you the extra traction you need to start fucking yourself in earnest.

Karkat's hand wraps around yours, helping keep your pace even while John takes his turn murmuring how handsome you are and how good you're being. His sincerity makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, even if his originality leaves much to be desired and he repeats himself a lot.

You can feel the pressure building up inside, a heavier, fuller feeling than last time. You bat Karkat's hand away so you can pull the toy back out and press it against the length of your dick. With a shiver, you let go. There's warmth and a thinner wetness running over your thighs as you take your turn letting your nook pour all over the bed. You set the toy on the other bedside table and snuggle up to your boyfriends.

"Oh no!" John says jokingly. "I'm trapped!"

"Shut up," Karkat grumbles. 

The bed under you is fucking soaked. It's disgusting and you should move. You should go to the shower and get cleaned off, and see if Karkat manages to pull a third round out of his ass. But moving is bad. As it is, you find that you're resting more and more of your weight on John's broad shoulders.

"Seriously, guys, am I gonna have to carry both of you to the shower?" John asks.

You and Karkat let out an affirmative noise at the same time.

"Wow, was it really that good?"

Again, affirmative noise.

John laughs. "You guys are so cute."

He gently eases Karkat down and then turns to lift you. You close your eyes, just enjoying the feeling of being in his arms until he sets you down in the gigantic bathtub. Warm water starts to gently rain down on your stomach and legs, and then you hear John walk away. A few moments later he's back, and he sets a Karkat down next to you.

"Hi, Karkat." You say.

He lets out a happy churr.

You feel what you're pretty sure is John's foot brush against your calf, like he's sitting across from you. You open your eyes and, yep, there he is, scrubbing the mess off of his thighs. You start to say something but John presses a finger to his lips. He gestures towards Karkat.

You look over and, wow. He's got his head tipped back, eyes shut, mouth open wide and breathing slow and deep. Normally he wants to sleep after sex, but you've never seen him collapse quite this fast.

"He's gonna be so thirsty when he wakes up," you whisper.

"Yeah, in more ways than one."

And he's right. You've got three more nights of this. Well, at least you'll get to try the rest of those scenarios you and John had talked about.

Maybe this egg thing won't be so bad after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Hey, I know a lot of you are probably just here for porn and I totally respect that. But if you're interested in more romantic-y things I've also been working on a johnkat skyrim au and there will be sex in that next week. if you like it you can find it on my profile)

The really nice thing about having two partners is that there’s almost always someone around who can take care of you. Dave timed his injection so he’d almost be able to keep up with you during the season, but his libido evens out pretty quick. But now, instead of just throwing a dildo at you when it gets to be too much, he just redirects you over to John. And even if there are a few toys in your arsenal that actually feel better in your nook than John does, it’s so much more important to be held. You need to have the solid warmth of a living person on you or under you or you don’t even care as long as you have someone kissing and touching you all over.

Then one day you wake up and you're done. You've got Dave on one side of your body, John on the other, and they're both pressed up naked against you. It's hot and you're damp with sweat. Their breath stinks. John's got his legs wrapped around one of yours and he's got his weird nighttime arousal thing going, his bulge pressed up against your thigh. Last night you would have pounced on him, taking his offer of wakeup sex and running with it. But this morning all you can think to do is wiggle your way out of your boyfriends' tender embrace.

You push yourself free and every muscle in your body screams. Fucking God, it's like you've been fucked constantly for four days or something. Funny, that. There's a cramping deep in your guts, probably your seedflap complaining about being repeatedly shoved open. It almost makes you regret the ludicrous amounts of sex you put yourself through. Almost. You waddle your way into the bathroom, legs protesting with every step. Hopefully a good ablution will help you loosen up some of your poor muscles.

The gentle warmth of the water is like heaven on your back. You sigh, rolling your shoulders. Oh yeah, this is exactly what you needed. Goodbye, mammal fluids and back pain. You rub at your sore muscles and soap yourself down. Then you start to inspect yourself. Well, you've got some faint bruises on your thighs. Hard to tell if they're faded or if they were just that light. You don't remember either of them gripping you that tight, but if you think about it the last few days are kind of a blur. There's a few darker marks on your shoulders and collarbone. But other than that…

Your hands shake as you reach down to gently examine your belly. It doesn't look that different from before. Yeah, the last time you were gravid you could tell within a few days, but you're not rail-thin anymore. Stupid John and his stupid baking, putting those couple extra inches on your waist. You touch your belly lightly at first, and then more firmly. Through the fat, you can feel the outline of your egg bulbs, but you can't feel whether or not there's anything in there. You sigh and pull your hands away. 

You don't think you're any bigger. If anything, you look _smaller_. But you _should_ have lost weight over the past few days, even with John and Dave shoving water and snacks down your meal tunnel.  Between a bit of dehydration, producing all that material, and burning all the calories from the near-constant sex, it happens. Trolls are _supposed_ to lose weight during the season. But then why does it feel like such a letdown?

You turn the shower off. All you can do for now is wait.

Of course, that doesn't stop you from checking every single day. And two days later you wake up and there it is. You don't feel any heavier, but your egg bulbs are round when you press up against them. That should be a sure sign. It should be, but there's still something in the back of your head saying that this can't be possible, that it's not happening, not to you.

Three days after that you start being able to feel the weight, an extra couple pounds low in your belly. And that's harder to ignore. You can feel it moving whenever you do. It's real.

And then the next day you start showing.

The lump is still small, you can cover it with your hands, but it’s unmistakable. And when you press your fingers against the taut skin you can feel the little spheres shift as you poke them. You know you must be giggling like a fucking idiot, sitting naked in front of the mirror like this, but it doesn’t matter. You’re _gravid._ Actually, properly gravid. And you don’t need to hide the eggs, don’t have to get rid of them. You’re going to contribute to a brood. You feel big and warm and loved, so very loved.

Where are your boys? You need them. Need them to hold you, touch you. You go back into the bedroom and wake them up to get the attention you deserve.

And from there things get better. You grow and grow and grow until what was once a tiny lump has grown into a massive dome. The eggs are already more than twice the size they were when you laid last time and you've still got a few days to go.

Dave is around less and less because he has a _job_ that gives him _projects_ with _deadlines._ And he refuses to just time travel all day every day. Like an asshole. Thankfully, John more than makes up for Dave’s absence. And he’s every bit as excited about the grubs as you are.  John lies down next to you, runs his fingers over your belly, tracing and kissing every single stretch mark.

"You're so gorgeous," he murmurs against your skin.

You hum in agreement because for once you actually feel like you are. You close your eyes and just let him touch you, worship you.

"Oh Karkat… Think of all the little trolls that'll get to live because of you. I'm counting six in the clutch today."

"Wait, really?!" You ask, pushing yourself up.

"Yep! One, two…" he prods a different spot on your belly with each number. "Three, four, five, and then there's just the corner of one here. It was laying flat but then you moved."

"Holy shit…" _Six?!_ On a first clutch?! Well, okay kind of second but you know most people lie about their firsts.

John lays his head on your chest and looks up at you with adoration. "Man, how are we gonna just pick two out of the caverns after they hatch?"

"John, not all of them are going to survive…"

"I mean, if they manage to get half your stubbornness I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Not sure whether I'm supposed to kiss you or hit you."

He laughs, light and bright and too beautiful for you to even pretend to be mad. "Here, let me help."

He crawls up a little bit and presses his lips to yours. You sigh contently. The one downside to being this gravid is really that John can't settle down on top of you properly. As much shit as you give him, it actually feels nice to have him on you. Sometimes you just like surrendering to him, sometimes you just want to admire how big and amazing he actually is, but now you just feel safety and warmth. When he pulls away he looks down at you with eyes full of that pure, messy human love.

"Hey, John?"

"Yeah?" he breathes.

"Would you be up for…" you swallow. "I mean, no pressure, but-"

He leans down to kiss you again. "Always up for making you feel good, babe. If that means making you cum over and over I'm happy to do it."

And you, the fucking mess that you are, slide right open. He doesn't even have to touch you.

John clicks his tongue. "Aww, Karkat! So sweet…”

“Stupid gravid hormones,” you grumble, as though that would cover up how deeply red you are for this man or how your bulge is eagerly thrashing around.

Thankfully, he doesn’t call you out. Instead he says, “You know, I could look at you all day like this. I mean it."

Even if his words are coming out pale, you don't miss the way he slides one hand down to rearrange himself. And when he glances back up you can tell he wants this too. You’re hot enough that mister no-sexual-attraction is getting turned on just by looking at you. Or at least his body knows what a dripping nook and a wiggling bulge mean. Either way, he doesn't seem to mind.

He takes your thighs in his big, firm hands, massaging the muscles lightly. He murmurs to you softly. "Oh, Karkat..." He kisses your cheek gently. "You're so gorgeous. I love you so much." 

You're helpless to do anything but let out a little high pitched whine. You need more. You want him inside of you, and you want to hold him close, want him pressed up against you front to front so you can hold him and kiss him. But he's not big enough to wrap around you like that. Not with the eggs in the way. So instead you start wiggling until he pulls up so you can shove your pajama pants down and roll over onto your hands and knees.

"This how you want it?" he asks, running his hand over your distended belly.

"Mm-hmm!" You nod maybe a little too enthusiastically, because it makes him giggle.

"It's looking like you're pretty ready, huh?" He asks, standing and undoing his jeans.

It takes about five hours for him to take is clothes off. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to take his eyes off of you. Oh, you hope that’s why. But eventually he throws his underwear in a corner and crawls back over you. He rubs your nook and a thick glob of lubricant rolls out. You wince. God, nook, why? You're trying to be sexy, dammit! But he just takes it and uses it to slick himself up without even teasing you about it. Oh you love this human. He drapes himself over you and slowly, gently eases in. He's so warm, so strong and steady above you and inside of you.

You take him easily, no stretching necessary for once. Your nook is just so much more pliant like this, more willing to stretch and bend to accommodate his broad, unyielding bulge. Your biology is begging, just _begging_ you to give him preferential fertilization, so that your matesprit can sire as many of your grubs as possible. And here that wouldn’t be a problem. It's not cullable, not even _dirty_ on this planet. Not that it would be an issue even if it was, you think as he begins to move within you. He gives you slow, gentle strokes that go along his entire length. It's still good, the kind of affection you want deep in your pump biscuit, but it’s not the coiling and thrashing of a troll bulge. It's different, a constant reminder of your lover's alien nature. The grubs would never be his. You could soak one of your eggs in his material and nothing would happen. You're just too biologically different.

But what if… what if you weren't? What if the hands caressing you were cool to the touch, the teeth that nibbled you sharp, and the bulge inside of you actually made for a nook? You've thought of what both of your lovers would be like as trolls, and John would make such a handsome highblood. Big, confident, virile. When he used you as a bucket, you'd be able to tell for sure, your body straining to hold all of his material. And while you’re gravid like this he'd spill deep inside of you, marking and changing your eggs so the grubs would come out looking like him. Please, if there is a world where you’re trolls together, let your grubs look like him, more handsome than your spawn has any right to be. 

A few of Dave's would be nice too, if any of the red material could gain a clawhold with the blue trying to wash it all out. And John, big softie that he is, would like that too, wouldn't he? His offspring sharing a clutch with Dave's, when a normal highblood would have disowned you both for allowing your brood to be polluted with lowblooded filth. And if you were trolls all of you could be gravid at once, and they'd get to feel like you feel, precious and loved and gorgeous. John's so blue he wouldn't have much of a bump, but Dave might be even bigger than you are. Practiced burgundies have been known to lay nine or ten…  The three of you could make such a picture, kissing and papping and fucking each other, thriving with such a depraved quadrant-smearing not even the filthiest Alternian porn would have dared touch it.

Your body shivers in pleasure, threatening to make you cum too early. John hushes you softly and pauses, placing one hand gently on your hip as though that would settle you down.  

“No,” you groan. “Don’t stop.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” You look back over your shoulder. Look at your face. Can he really say no to this face?

No, no he can’t. He starts rolling his hips and you sigh softly. Yes this is what you need. You need him to keep fucking you, and you need to go back to fantasizing about the world where he and you and Dave are all trolls and gravid with each other’s grubs.

That being said, maybe Dave wouldn't want to. After all, he and John could make a wiggler right now. They work hard not to. Oh, but what if instead of John and Dave being like you, you were like them?

You'd rather keep your nook if you were human, of course. Because, really, could you give this up? You take a moment to relish the feeling of John slowly, deliberately fucking you, broad and steady and deliberate. No, you would not. And he and Dave could still use their hands and tongues on you. And, yeah, chute stuff exists, but it's so much less fun.

And if you were a human with a nook John could still breed you. Not just trigger you to be gravid, but honest to God breed you. You could only have one at a time, but what would it feel like to have a tiny human, your and _John's_ tiny human, inside of you? The material donor just feels so much more important in human breeding, because it’s not some faceless, nameless troll but your lover that helps you make your wigglers. And like the weight isn’t enough of a reminder of the new life you’re making, humans move around. You think you read something about that, tiny humans swimming around before they're laid – born, whatever. It'd be like pushing against your eggs and having your eggs push back, being able to know for sure that they’re healthy and alive inside of you.

Shit, and you'd get to keep that for _months._ You'd get to savor every single step of the process. You could have so much more touching, so much more affection, so much more sex. You've never wanted to be a mammal more in your _life._

Then maybe this rocking motion John's doing into you would be even more satisfying. Because, yeah, you're starting to get sore already. You're really not built for this. But with him pounding away at you, it's enough to make your stomach swing, low and heavy. You can feel the eggs shifting inside of you. Maybe it's not quite as good as a living wiggler responding, but it's inescapable, a constant reminder of your state, that John and Dave did this to you.

"You've been quiet," John says between breaths. "What're you thinking about?"

"Wigglers," you manage to grunt out.

"Hehe, of course you are."

The idle strokes to your side become more focused now. He reaches under you and holds your belly as best he can. You’ve grown too much for him to grab you properly. He _might_ be able to fit two eggs in his hands now, so the entire mass of your heavy egg bulbs is a complete lost cause. But with his pressure you can feel them even better.

"Fuck, Karkat. Look at you." He lets out a breathy moan. "God you're such a good breeder, Karkat."

You shudder as the praise pulls a whine from your throat.

"You are! Making so many eggs for me and Dave. And even though you're already like this you still want us all over you. You're the best troll."

"Then keep using me!" You turn over your shoulder to look at him. He stares back in surprise but keeps fucking you. "Every season from now until forever. See how many eggs I can make on my third or fourth try." 

His expression goes soft. "We will," he promises. He lowers his hand and allows his fingers to tangle with your bulge. "But you have to cum for me, okay?"

"Are you close?"

He lets out a breathy sigh. "Oh yeah. You want me to pull out, or-?"

You shake your head and collapse onto your elbows. "Come inside me. Please."

He swallows. "Okay."

He makes it three more strokes until he grabs your hips tightly. You feel him twitch and pulse inside of you as he marks you as his own personal bucket. Your nook convulses, trying to pull the material deeper. Oh, if only it would do any good. If only…

John keeps rolling his hips, fucking you through his orgasm. You're letting an alien use you as his bucket, wishing that you lived in a world you could carry his spawn. What's wrong with you? You're disgusting.

You love it.

There's a rattle as John pulls the bucket onto the bed. He tries awkwardly to get it between your legs. You shiver as your thighs touch the cold steel. Then that bastard pulls away. You turn and are about to curse him out. You came to _him_ for sex! But then he slides down your body. 

Just as his fingers start to tangle with your bulge, he presses his lips to your nook and _sucks._ You startle a little. He laughs into your genitals, the fucker, but then he starts to lap like he's some sort of woofbeast trying to drink-

Oh, Sufferer's Disciple. He's licking his own come back out, swallowing his genetic material.

It's too much. You come with a scream, material pouring out into the bucket. Your body shakes and shudders uncontrollably. All you are is jolts of electricity, except for the ever-present weight low in your belly. You want to collapse, but he catches you, gently guides you down onto the mattress. Your bulge reels itself back in and your nook closes up.

"So good," he murmurs. "Karkat, you're amazing."

"I'm filthy."

He chuckles. "Yeah, but that's okay. We'll get you cleaned up."

"I don't mean like that," you mutter. "More like depraved."

"Oh." He shrugs. "Hey, should we save this bucket and give it to the collection drones with the eggs?"

"John!"

He sets the bucket on the floor and winces. "Okay, not the time, I guess." He lies down next to you and tangles his fingers in yours. "Is it the time to tell you you're amazing and I love you?"

You look over and see that his mouth is fucking covered in red. You turn away, blushing, and hand him a washcloth. "It… it doesn't bother you?"

"You're kidding, right? Snuggling is objectively the best part!"

"No, not that… I'm disgusting."

"Yeah, okay, that's the drop talking. Before you start thinking you don't deserve to be here, I just want to point out that I orgasmed inside and then felched my super pregnant alien boyfriend. I'm at least as guilty as you are." He wipes his face.

"True."  You still don't make eye contact.

"I love you, okay?" He says. He leans over and kisses you on the temple. "You're great and wonderful, and you don’t get to think otherwise while I’m around, okay?"

You swallow. "Okay."

"Now, do you want a shower or should I just use a washcloth?"

"Can you just hold me instead?"

"I'll take that as a washcloth then."

He quickly cleans his hands and then begins wiping gently at your upper thighs and belly. Then, when he decides you're clean enough, he slides in beside you and covers you both in a thick, warm blanket. You roll onto your side so he can press up against your back. John drapes one arm over your belly and presses his lips to your neck. It's so light, so chaste, delightfully pale.

"You do actually… like doing this, right?" You ask.

"Mmm-hmm!"

He keeps nuzzling you, kissing you, running his hands over your face. And like that, in the arms of your lover, you decide it'd be okay to take a quick little nap.


	3. Chapter 3

They don’t make action movies like they used to on earth. You swear they’re just not as good as they used to be. Karkat just says it’s because “you’re an adult so you’ve got something resembling taste now.” But no. They’re not as good here. Really. Fuck him.

Or, ugh, maybe not. Gravid trolls are apparently super needy and you’re getting really bored of sex.

The key turns in the lock and the front door opens.

“Hi Dave!” You call out.

“Hey, John.” There’s a clink as he drops his keys in the dish near the door, and then he comes up behind you. “Where’s the other one?”

“He’s upstairs napping.”

“What, again?”  

“Yep. But to be honest I think he’s probably happier like this.”

“Or at least we are, since he’s not either whining or desperately trying to hump us.” Dave plops down on the couch next to you and starts unbuttoning his shirt. “What movie is this?”

“It’s just called _Monster._ It’s about a hardened marine who they take to fight what they’re totally refusing to call werewolves but are totally werewolves.”

“Shit, is that supposed to be blood?”

“I think so.”

“Ketchup looks more like blood than that,” he scoffs, throwing his binder carelessly to the side.

“I know, Dave.”

“Pfft, and award for the most conspicuous CGI goes to-!”

You roll your eyes. There’s a reason you watch this shit when he’s not home. “So how was your day?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Eh, it was alright,” he says, pulling a t-shirt and sports bra from the drawer he keeps here for just this reason. “An intern dropped a giant jar of tadpoles. Formalin and glass _everywhere.”_

“Ew, I’m sorry.”

“Eh, it’s not so bad. Got me out of paperwork for an hour. And I couldn’t smell anything when we had to do a dissection later, so that’s always good. Especially since this was apparently a really bad one. Actually made Sharim puke.”

“Which one is that again?” You ask, purposefully not looking as he adjusts his boobs. 

“She’s the super tough tealblood we hired last year," he replies, pulling the shirt over his head. 

“Oh yeah! Isn’t she the one with a pet snake the snake that’s like ten feet long?”

“Uh-huh, that’s her." 

You’re about to ask him more about what the thing was when a door slams upstairs, making you both jump. You and Dave glance at each other and then are upstairs in a flash. Karkat stands in the bedroom doorway, leaning heavily on the post and panting.

“What’s happening?” you demand at the same time as Dave asks “Are you okay?”

“Ablution block,” he says.

“Huh?” You ask.

“Get me to the fucking bathroom before the eggs splat on the goddamn floor!”

Oh! Right! Message received. You pick him up and Dave runs ahead to open the doors.

The three of you have talked about this. You know what you’re supposed to do. Dave starts filling the tub with warm water and you put Karkat back down so he can get himself undressed. He pulls his sweatpants down and his thighs are slick with red. You tell yourself it’s just whatever goop the eggs were floating in, but it looks an awful lot like blood. You tell yourself it’s just because he looks like he’s in so much pain, teeth grit and clutching his stomach. Why do trolls have to have all their fluids be the same color, dammit?

You help ease Karkat down on his knees and the water runs pink. He seems calmer now, though. His breaths come more evenly. His hands, which had been tightly curled into fists, loosen.  His wings stop trembling and hang loosely.

“There you go,” you murmur. “You’re doing fine.”

“Fucking hell,” he hisses. “This is so much worse than last time!”

“I’m sorry, Karkat. But at least it’s for something now, right?” You take his hand. “Just focus on the grubs, okay?”

“Right. I- Wait, Dave, are you okay?”

You glance back at him. Dave’s standing just in front of the door. His hands are shaking and his face is white.

“I can’t do this,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

He throws the door open and bolts.

“Dave!” You call out.

“Shit,” Karkat growls. “Why fucking now?!”

“I…“

You look back and forth between Karkat and the door. For the first time, you almost wish you didn’t have two boyfriends. You have no idea what to do, who to help. Dave can’t be left alone or he’ll get even more freaked out, but you don’t know where he is but Karkat is here and in pain and if you’ll leave _he’ll_ freak out and it’ll probably hurt more. But maybe he’ll freak out because he knows Dave’s freaking out and-

“What do you want me to do?” You finally ask.

Karkat looks just as lost as you do. He swallows. “I guess… trolls aren’t supposed to need help when we…” but he doesn’t look convinced.

Then, you hear footsteps outside. It can’t be Dave, it sounds different. You turn and see yourself walk into the bathroom.  

"He's in the closet," the other you says. "Go talk to him."

"But Karkat-"

"Is why Dave sent me back here." He finishes.

"Can one of you just go fucking take care of Dave so the other one can come help me? That would be fucking great!" Karkat shouts.

You startle, nod to your future-self, and leave the bathroom.

Guh, you kind of wish that you'd specified which closet. You check the sex bedroom's, the linen closet, the one in the hall where the clothes that almost never get worn live, the one with winter jackets, and then the cleaning closet, until you finally make it to your bedroom. There you find him curled up in the corner behind his dress shirts, hugging his knees to his chest and shaking. He looks up at you, eyes wide with fear behind his shades.

"Shhh," you say softly. "It's okay, Dave. It's just me."

You carefully slide the clothing back into place, giving him some cover and then duck inside to sit next to him. Your first instinct is to hold him, to scoop him up into your lap and kiss him and cuddle him until he forgets what freaked him out. But that won't work. He would just panic more. And with Karkat being in fucking _labor_ in the other room if he closes up with you there’s nothing anyone would be able to do. Instead you give him a little bit of space and keep talking.

"Everything is fine. You're safe. All three of us are here in our house and nothing is going to hurt you." You hold out your hand slowly. He sees it but doesn't flinch away, so you gently, carefully stroke his forehead, tucking his bangs back. "See? It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you. Let's just breathe. In. Out. In. Out."

Dave follows you and you can see some of the tension draining from his muscles.

"There we go. You're doing great, Davey. Now, do you wanna talk about it?"

"You should be helping Karkat."

"I am. There's no way he'd be comfortable knowing you're like this. In a few minutes you send me back and I'll go take care of him. But first we gotta take care of you. So, do you want to talk about it?"

"No," he says.

"That's okay. I'll just be here."

You sit in the dark silence for a moment before he whispers. "I-I'm scared."

Well, no shit. But you just sit there quietly and let him continue.

"I'm scared because I see Karkat like this and I can't help but think what if that was me."

"Oh…" Of course. Of course he would and of course he wouldn’t tell you because he wouldn’t want you to worry or to draw attention to himself. How did you not think of that? Fuck, you're such an idiot sometimes! 

"And I know it's selfish! I know it's stupid! You don't have to tell me."

"It's not selfish or stupid,” you assure him. "And I get it, I-"

"No you don’t!” he snaps. “Because it could _never_ be you! Sure you might be able to imagine what it’s like for him, but there’s a zero percent chance you’ll ever have to face that. I mean, I know they say being on T reduces the chances, and I was always super irregular anyway, and I've got an IUD, and we still use condoms. So the odds are like one in a million but the problem is that we're gonna live as long as this universe does so what happens after a million years?"

"Dave, that's not how probability works. You know that."

"But it could still happen. And the longer we play with fire the more likely we're gonna get burned. And then what?"

Normally there’s something like a script here. Normally when Dave freaks out you know what he wants to hear and what will calm him down. But this is new territory. You’ve never actually talked about this. When all else fails, you decide to be honest. "Well, that'd be up to you. I'm here for you, Dave. I love you."

Dave just stares at you for a moment. Shit, did you say something wrong? Was it too much? But then he throws himself sideways onto you. Oh thank God. His face fits oddly against your shoulder with his shades on, but you don't mind. You help him arrange himself so he's sitting on your lap and clinging to you. You gently run a hand down his spine.

"I'll do whatever it takes," you say. "If you don't want me in your front, or only want me to touch Karkat, or even if you want me sitting out altogether that's fine. We'd probably have to try more other ways for me to feel close to you two but-"

He shakes his head. "I like you too much for that."

"Okay. Then, like I said before, if…” You nibble your tongue, trying to think of how to phrase this not using the actual words so you don’t make him panic. “If something does happen what we do is your call. I'll support you no matter what, and I know Karkat will too."

"But you wanna be a dad."

"Huh?"

"I can't take that from you, John. I just can't."

Your heart sinks. "Dave did you… did you not want the grubs?"

"No! The grubs are fine. But they're gonna be Karkat's and some random troll’s. Not yours."

"Oh!" You smile softly and run your fingers through his hair. "Dave, I don't care about that. When I say I wanna be a dad that means I want to take a tiny person and love them and take care of them until they grow up. Like, my dad is my dad even though he picked me up off of a meteor. I mean, I guess we were related because of ectobiology shenanigans, but it’s not like we knew that. And even if it was super important to keep a bloodline going or some stupid shit like that, there's, what, 1.4 billion humans on this planet right now?”

“1.6,” Dave says with a sniffle.

“Okay, so even more. Like I can’t even wrap my brain around how many people that is! And every one of them is based mostly on the eight of us. Yeah, there's some random troll and extra mutations thrown in, but I still think my genetic legacy is pretty damn secure."

He scowls. "Okay, but you can't tell me you're not into the idea. I've seen how you've been looking at Karkat, heard the stuff you've whispered to him."

You sigh. "Dave, that's different."

"How?" There's bite in his words. He wants you to fight him, to get mad and yell so he can go on the defensive.

Instead you run your fingers gently down his sides. "Dave, I wasn't excited because he was gravid. I was excited because he was _happy_. It honestly reminded me more of when you first got on T. I know you remember that, how giddy you got when you noticed a little change, how much more confident you got with your new body."

“But that’s completely different…”

“Maybe to you. But the way I see it, it’s watching someone I love, who’s hated how he looks for _years,_ finally realizing how handsome and amazing they are.” A tear runs down his cheek and you wipe it away. “Of course I’m gonna want to reinforce that so you guys come away feeling handsome or sexy or whatever my brain just translates into beautiful.”

"Really?"

"Yeah. And even if I did have some kind of pregnancy fetish or something, you're basically suggesting we put you through a year of hell so I can get off."

"Well when you put it like that…" He admits.

"Yeah. So it's not gonna happen."

He laughs. "John?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm a fucking idiot."

"Maybe, but you're my idiot. And I'm also an idiot and Karkat's also also an idiot. So it'll be okay."

He snorts and buries his face deeper into your shoulder. You just sit there and hold him. Karkat’s still struggling in the other room, but you’re there too. You have to remember that Dave’s got all the time in the world, and he’ll share it with you.

After a while there are footsteps outside. You can hear yourself murmuring to Karkat. His footsteps are heavier than usual, but he sounds happy enough.

“Alright,” Dave says. “Stable timeloop time, I guess. See you in a few seconds.”

You nod and brace yourself. It’s always worse to be sent off without him. Instead of a little lurch it’s a harsh shove. You feel like you’ve been hit by a time-bus, but you stagger to your feet. Dave’s been taken care of, now it’s Karkat’s turn.

You throw the door open and head off into the hall. Dave rushes past you, so freaked out he barely notices you’re there. Your heart lurches and you long to go comfort him until he’s happy again, but no, fuck, you already do. Did?

Okay, don’t think too hard. Don’t worry about copying exactly what you said. What happens should just happen. Dave’s just fine in the future, and you need to make Karkat okay now.

"He's in the closet," you tell yourself. "Go talk to him."

"But Karkat-" your past-self tries to argue.

"Is why Dave sent me back here." You say. Was that right? You think that was right?

Guh, you hate dealing with past selves. If Karkat could just-

"Can one of you just go fucking take care of Dave so the other one can come help me? That would be fucking great!"

Yeah, that. Your past self jumps, but then gives you a brief nod, and runs off. Okay, you’re done with the time travel, this is the shit you actually prepared for. Get the incubating bucket out from under the sink. Turn the knob to the bright red setting. It makes a little click as it starts to heat up. Okay, looks good so far. You kneel back down next to the tub.

“Okay,” you say, “I’m here.”

“What happened with Dave?” he asks.

“Dysphoria stuff.”

He groans. “Why did it have to be now?”

“Uh, well, it turns out seeing you like this kind of freaks him out.”

Karkat looks up at you in shock. You watch him go through sadness, guilt, anger, before he turns away and grumbles “Could have fucking warned us”

“I know, stupid stoic Striders, but you need to relax, okay?”

“Easy for you to say. I’m fucking dying.” He lets himself drop forward so he can support himself with his hands.

“No you’re not. I heard future you and he’s just fine.”

“Maybe you fucked it up. Maybe we’re in a doomed timeline now.”

“Shhh,” you stroke his spine lightly.

His whole body shudders and he lets out a choked little cry. There are tears in the corners of his eyes. “ _Fuck!_ It wasn’t _nearly_ this bad last time!”

“Well yeah, didn’t you say the eggs were a lot smaller time?”

“Shut the fuck up! Shit…” He bites his lower lip.

You offer him a hand and he takes it, claws digging into your skin. But it’s not like there’s much you can do, other than let nature take its course. You can’t even tell what’s happening. The water’s too cloudy for you to see anything, and you feel like asking him would be a bad idea.

He shivers, shudders, lets out all kinds of pained groans with an occasional curse thrown in. Every now and then a stray tear rolls down his cheek. You’re saying stuff, little words of encouragement, but you forget what they are before they even leave your mouth. He doesn’t seem bothered. He’s probably not really listening to you.

You don’t know how long you stay there. It feels like hours, even though you know it should only be a couple of minutes. Is something wrong or are you just stressed out or-

Karkat lets out a sigh. “That’s one.”

“Huh? Oh!”

The water is cloudy, so you have to grope around a bit, but then you brush against something smooth and soft. Gently, carefully, you wrap your fingers around the egg. It’s about the size of a softball, its texture rubbery and just a little bit slippery. When you get it out of the water you see it’s a bright, translucent red. There’s a darker formless blob floating inside of it. It looks exactly like the pictures in the books, which you can only take to be a good sign.

But you can’t just sit and stare at it. You only have about a minute before it’ll get too cold or dry out and one of your grubs would never get the chance to exist. So into the incubator bucket it goes. You lift the lid and set the egg down gently, letting it sink into the goop inside.

“Alright,” you say. “One down, five to go.”

Karkat groans. “Don’t remind me.” He’s already starting to shudder again, his jaw tight.

“It’s gonna be okay.” You stroke his sweat-damp hair. “You’re doing great.”

You get a wordless grunt in reply.

The second egg feels like it comes a lot more quickly. You’re not sure if it really does, or if it’s just easier for you to wait since the first one was okay. When you fish the egg out, it looks identical to the other one. You set it in the bucket and go back to comforting Karkat.

You’re only at it for about three minutes before he says. “Okay.”

This one is a little bit oblong, but the color is still right and the blob is still the same size, so you hope it’ll be okay. You barely get back to Karkat before you have another egg to catch. You get two more normal ones. But then the last is smaller. Just picking it up you can tell it’s only about half the size of the others. Then when you pull it free it’s a lot darker in color, almost murky. Oh no…

You put it in the bucket with the others. It’s so small that there’s plenty of room for it.

There’s a splashing noise. Karkat’s turned himself around so he’s sitting normally. His eyes are closed, head tilted back, breathing deeply.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“Yeah. I just need to not move for a few decades.”

“Pfft, sounds like a plan.” You drain the tub, but there’s still pink _everywhere._ You grab the showerhead and start spraying Karkat and the tub down. Your boyfriend purrs contentedly.

Before you finish, he opens his eyes to watch you. “How are they?” He asks.

You almost drop the showerhead

“That bad?” He nibbles on his lip.

“No! I mean… Four are normal, one’s a little wonky, and I think one might be a dud.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe I should just-“ You fish it back out of the goop and show it to him.

He nods, “Yeah, probably.”

“What- uh, what should we do with it?”

He shrugs. “Might as well put it in anyway. Sometimes they come back after they get implanted into the mother grub.”

You just stare at him.

“What?”

“I- I kind of thought you’d be more upset.”

He cocks his head a little to the side. “Why?”

“I mean, I have literally seen you cry over spilled milk.”

“Oh my fucking- That was once and I had a rough day!”

“And these are your grubs.” You place the egg back in the bucket.

He looks away and frowns a little. “I guess… it’s probably because I was convinced they’d all be like that.”

“Karkat…”

“I mean,” He grins from ear to ear. “Who am I to think I can get away with doing _anything_ right? But four of six on a first clutch is objectively _good._ And I don’t even know how it’s possible because I’m such a fucking freak and-“

“Shhh,” You pap him lightly and he whines. “You’re not a freak, you’re awesome.”

He grumbles something to himself.

“You are!”

“Yeah, alright.” He pushes himself to his feet. “Let’s go find Dave.”

“Are you sure you’re alright to-“

“It’s not like I’m going far.” He takes a towel and starts wiping himself down.

Still, you don’t want to leave him and go ahead. Instead, you gather up his filthy clothes and wait until he’s dry.

“I’m supposed to be saying something to you,” you say as you open the bedroom door, “but I can’t remember what it is. I don’t know I was even really listening.”

He laughs. “You do know if you do whatever comes to mind you’ll do what you did before, right?”

“I don’t wanna fuck it up, though. I like this universe.”

“Yeah, I guess I do too.” He sits down on the edge of the bed and you get him some fresh pajamas.

“I’m proud of you, though, you did great.”

“John, I just sat there the whole time.”

“I donno, it seemed like a lot of work to me.” You continue before he can make any sort of denial. “Anyway, you gonna need anything else? I mean I know what the books say, but-“

“No, John. I’m not a fucking human. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, okay.” You kiss his forehead and his ears do their cute little wiggly thing.

There’s a flash of red light from behind the closet door. Okay, timeloop stabilized, world not ended, everything’s good.

You open the door and Dave’s sitting there exactly where you left him.

“Hey,” He says, getting to his feet.

“Hey yourself,” you say softly.

He looks past you to Karkat with a hint of trepidation, like he was expecting the troll to come away horribly disfigured. But nope, with a shirt on he looks the same as he did before this whole thing started. If he gained or lost any weight overall, it wasn’t much, and the looseness of his t-shirt would hide it anyway.

Dave hardens his resolve and goes over to sit beside Karkat. “How’d it go?” he asks.

“Alright, but it would have been better if _somebody_ had warned me they might freak out!” As the sentence progresses, Karkat’s voice goes into a growl.

Dave winces. “Sorry, I- I thought I’d be able to handle it.”

“God, you’re an idiot.” Karkat pulls him close. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. I think so. Just- just stay with me tonight, okay?”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Karkat murmurs, pressing his forehead against Dave’s cheek. Dave closes his eyes and pushes back.

The two of them sit there together for a moment, holding each other. Not for the first time, you feel like you’re intruding on something that should just be theirs.

“Should I leave?” You start to ask, but before you can finish your sentence Dave interrupts you.

“Egbert, you should plop your ass down right here this second. You’re not getting out of the cuddle pile.”

Karkat makes a noise of agreement.

You can’t help but smile as you press up against Dave, reaching around to play with your other boyfriend’s hair. Yeah, this is definitely something you can live with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Insert joke about this chapter being almost painful to get out or something)
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed it! This was all I had initially planned on writing, but if you want to see a little afterwards with the grubs let me know and I might whip something up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A little afterward" I said. 4000 words later…
> 
> So, uh, had a real interest in invertebrate biology in undergrad and I think too much about troll stuff. I couldn't come up with a non-intrusive way to info dump this shit, so I'm doing it in a note. 
> 
> Trolls are still r-selected. Less so than on Alternia, but still pretty damn r-selected. From the way the devastation is described in comic, I assume that out of every 100 eggs laid, less than 5 are going to get a lusus and probably reach adulthood. Things on new earth are better, and out of those same 100 eggs you can reasonably expect about 40 of them to pupate successfully. This gives an understanding and expectation of child mortality that is blasé compared to humans but would be absurdly oversensitive on Alternia. 
> 
> One cool thing about land arthropods is that instead of lungs they have what are called spiracles, which are tiny breathy holes all along their bodies. This is one thing that limits modern insect size (in previous eras, bugs could/had to be bigger because there was more oxygen). https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Respiratory_system_of_insects http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2011/08/110808-ancient-insects-bugs-giants-oxygen-animals-science/  
> Grubs hatch very, very insect-like. Over their various instars (molts for juvenile arthropods, linked to developmental stages) their internal organs (especially lungs) get more efficient, but this means brooding caverns, and anywhere else one might want to raise a grub, must be more oxygen-rich than what is ideal for humans or necessary for adult trolls. 
> 
> Also, all of the grubs use gender-neutral pronouns, since trolls choose their gender when they pupate based on where they place their cocoons. This has nothing to do with science and everything to do with my genderqueer ass. 
> 
> If you want to talk about literally anything else troll biology related, don't hesitate to ask. I'm very excitable about it.

_Tirzat looked at her beloved, tears wellig_

Fucking typos

_welling up in her eyes. "But how is this possible?"_

_Dizzin just laughed and said_

Aw shit, what should you have him say? You could do a callback to the first chapter, or would it be better to go for something poetic and passionate or would that be too purple? How much cheesiness have you earned at this point? Hmm…

You're taken from your thoughts by the sound of someone galumphing up the stairs. Fuck, how long have you been working on this piece of shit? You check the time. It's only one, so unless something went really wrong that means it's probably not Dave.

By the time you manage to think that through, John throws open the door. It slams into the wall, making you wince.

"Karkat! You got a letter!" He exclaims.

"So why are you all excited?" You ask, swiveling around.

"Because…" He presents it to you with a flourish. "It's from the caverns!"

Your eyes go wide. Oh. "Fuck…It has been a year, hasn't it?"

He snorts. "Thought you would have figured that out from all the coupons they keep sending us for potty pads and grub food."

You rip the letter out of his hands and turn back to your desk. John takes a few steps closer, peering over your shoulder. You've been dreading this day since you sent the eggs off, the day you'd finally get the letter saying "sorry, your whole brood hatched horribly misshapen and each one was in incredible pain until it died two days later." Because you know for an absolute fact that's what it's going to say. But at the same time, no matter how many condolences they offer, how much grief counseling or how many fertility options they recommend, you don't they would write enough pages for the envelope to be this thick.

You glance back at John, and he places a comforting hand on your shoulder.

Okay, this is it. Deep breaths. You turn the envelope over and open it. Inside there's about five pages and another smaller envelope.

 _Dear Mr. Vantas,_ the letter begins.

_We are pleased to_

Not sorry? You don't dare breathe.

 _We are pleased_ _to inform you that you've been matched with three healthy grubs. Nuclear and mitochondrial DNA analysis have confirmed with 99.95% certainty that these grubs have come from your donated eggs. Your grubs are now stable enough to be safely removed from the caverns and, as soon as you are prepared, they can be taken into your care._

_We strongly recommend you claim your grubs in order to ensure they are given significant one-on-one attention, which has been found to be physically and psychologically beneficial for young trolls. However, should you prefer to allow your grubs to stay in the caverns you will be charged a-_

No, there is no fucking way you're leaving them in there a second longer than they need to be, even if these caverns are miles better than the ones back on Alternia. You flip through the rest of the letter and it's mostly a basic guide of how to not accidentally murder your grubs, along with your options if you wound up being matched with a lot more or fewer grubs than you were hoping for.   

If this is all just a form letter, then the little envelope must be-

Kanaya told you about this. And she said that even though she was sworn to secrecy it was going to be good news. But that warning doesn't make this feel any less like a dream. You open the smaller envelope and pull out the glossy pictures inside. And there they are. John squeezes your shoulder more tightly and lets out a little excited noise.

You spread the photos across the desk. There are, of course, the standard documentation ones, featuring a front and top view with rulers for scale. One of them has the standard stubby mutant horns and looks like it's chittering unhappily at being put in the picture box. Another has longer kind of wavy horns and looks at the camera with curiosity. The final one, shockingly for anything related to you, is the model grub, sitting there completely relaxed. It's even cleaning its small curved horns in the top view. But it's the other two pictures that really hold your attention. They managed to get all three of your grubs _playing together,_ happily cooperating to destroy a cardboard something. And then there's one where they're sleeping in a big pile with a few other midbloods. Your bloodpusher swells. You need to go get them. Right this second.

John's already pulled out his phone, undoubtedly to call Dave.

At least he's not teasing you about how you kept insisting that the two of them were going to curse it by turning the basement into a decent nursery.

"Hi Dave!" he says. "It's John! Yes, I know my name shows up before you answer, but shut up, this is important. You need to leave work _now._ Karkat's letter came today!  we can go pick up the grubs!"

There's a flash of red light. Dave takes the phone out of John's hands and hangs up. "Let's go."

Of course it's not that easy. First of all you have to actually get dressed, because you're a walking disaster and still in your pajamas. Dave and John run downstairs to get the humidifier and oxygen machine going as well as gathering up the stuff for the car case. Then you have to give the caverns a call to let them know, yes, you're picking the grubs up today. And _then_ you have to stop at the store to get another food dish and more toys and nesting materials because you weren't expecting three. (You really were expecting none, and then to take a couple from a ridiculously large clutch). But that just means that there's one for each of you, and that'll probably be fine, right? It's not like you could bear to leave one out, especially since it looks like they already kind of bonded.

Apparently you're not the only one who got their letter today. For once, the store's massive parking lot is completely full. The inside looks like it's been ransacked. Shelves stand empty even though they always stock extra grub supplies this time of year. Trolls run around hectically filling their carts with last minute stuff while the staff tries not to look too mortified at the display. Thankfully for you, a lot of the others have gone for the high end stuff, not realizing that grubs are generally pretty happy eating and playing with actual garbage. So there's plenty of towels and napkins that the grubs will be able to demolish for nesting and for fun. Yeah, there's some stuff you're specific about, but you bought all of that weeks ago. 

The line takes forever. You're behind a dozen other new families, most of them loaded with jars of expensive nutritious mush and high-tech toys and specialty fabric for their grubs.

"I wonder what these people would do," you grumble, "If I told them that in the old universe we made nests out of piles of hair and moss and survived off of rotting roadkill and cannibalism."

"Shh," John says, scratching your back lightly.

At least he's not going for between the horns in public.

"You think they'd like shredding one of these crap magazines?" Dave asks, looking over the rack.

"Probably," you admit, "But then they might eat the pieces and who knows what's in that glossy shit?"

John laughs. "I still can't get over the fact that you talk about grubs like Jade would talk about Bec."

"I mean, from what I understand the main difference is that grubs are way more destructive and get significantly smarter. There's a reason stuff is only ever 'grub resistant,' not 'grub proof.' But I've never had a barkbeast."

"We could fix that, you know," John says.

"No," you and Dave say at the same time.

Finally, you buy your shit and make your way to your cavern, or at least its surface building. It’s pretty unassuming, right on the edge of a strip mall with a small black sign saying "Brood Cavern #582." The lot is completely full, but Dave notices someone pulling out so you get a spot right near the door. You unclip the carrier from the back seat and together three of you head inside.

The noise inside is horrendous. Ear-splitting screeching ricochets off the walls as dozens of grubs are introduced to the outside world for the first time. At least things seem to be moving pretty quickly. Staff members usher groups back after a couple of seconds and there's a constant stream of people leaving with their grubs in tow.

"Last name?" A tired-looking jadeblood asks you.

"Vantas."

She looks up from her clipboard in astonishment and just stares.

You sigh. "Yeah, that Vantas. Where do we-"

"Karkat!" You turn and see Kanaya waving at you from the far end of the counter.

"Yeah, she has the Us and Vs," the jadeblood murmurs.

"Thanks!" John says. "We'll head right over there."

You wade through the crowd and eventually come to find that your line is mercifully short. There's only three other families in front of you, and they get shepherded into the back quickly.

"Hello, boys," Kanaya says, quickly typing something into her computer. "I am so glad you finally were given the news! I know we are not to play favorites, but I admit I kept a slightly closer eye on your grubs than the others."

"As long as you didn't name them," John teases.

She blushes. "Well… not proper names. But Rose and I couldn't help but give the three of them nicknames." She reaches down and takes two sheets of paper from a printer below. "Alright, I need you to sign here, here, and here."

"Man, you sure have some system down," Dave notes, glancing over your shoulder at the paperwork.

"There really is no other way to deal with fifteen hundred wigglers," Kanaya sighs. "Even if it does take some of the excitement out of it."

"Wish it could make me less nervous," you grumble.

"Yeah, but that's what you've got us for," Dave says, nudging you gently.

"I guess…"

"You have nothing to worry about," Kanaya says, "Your grubs are perfectly sweet and well behaved. No idea where they got that from."

You roll your eyes. "Gee, thanks."

"Anyway, I take this sheet back, you keep that one, and someone will be right out to-"

Rose opens a door and takes a step towards you. "Alright. I'm here to sentence three innocent wigglers to a lifetime of unfortunate taste in media."

"Rose?" Kanaya asks. "I thought you were on room preparation because you didn't want to deal with new parents."

"I was and I don't, but given that this is a family member, I thought I'd make an exception." She opens the little half door in the counter and gestures for you to come inside. "It's not every day one becomes an aunt."

"What? Does Crocker Junior not count?" Dave asks. "Roxy's gonna be so offended."

"Technically, she's our half sister," Rose points out, leading you down a hallway.

"Can we not with the weird generational thing?" John groans. "Sometimes it still confuses _me."_

"Well, this promises to be much more straightforward for you at least," Rose says. "You can have a discussion with Jake and Jane about whether they want to be great grandparents later." She looks down at a clipboard. "Alright, your room is right over here." She gestures to the door to your left. "You ready?"

You swallow. "As I'm going to be."

"Alright, now be careful, Wibbly- er, VA-932 likes to explore. Make sure they don't slip outside."

"Got it."

Alright. Here you go. You take a deep breath and crack the door open. The room is painted a dark grey, meant to be soothing for the grubs used to the caverns. It also makes the grubs' bright red carapaces stand out clearly. The three of them are bunched together, viciously disemboweling a stuffed bear. You slip inside quickly and then motion for John and Dave to follow. The one with curved horns looks up and chitters to their broodmates. The nubby one hisses softly and takes up a defensive posture.

"That one's definitely yours," Dave whispers.

"Shush." You sit down on the ground, try to be as unthreatening as possible and start purring.

John and Dave follow your lead, and John actually manages to mimic your purr somewhat convincingly.

 The final grub, the one with the long wavy horns cocks its head to the side and looks at you with interest. You notice the little tag on its ear, VA-932. So this is the one Rose nicknamed Wibbly. Probably for the horns. Wibbly takes a few timid steps towards you and you hold out your hand.

"H-hi," you say softly.

You realize with mild surprise that they're a bit bigger than it looked in the pictures. The grub's head and each of their three body segments are just a little bit larger than the eggs were.  They sniff your hand uncertainly. Please, oh please let them like you.

God you hadn't thought you'd get this far, but what if they reject you now? What if you smell too strange, too human, and they're afraid of you? What if these are as afraid of everything as you remember being? The growling and shrinking back is probably what you would have done. Not that you have more than a few smattered memories of being a grub… Just please don't run. Please, please, please don't run.

Wibbly makes their decision, and climbs up onto your arm. The millions of tiny hairs on its feet tickle as it clings to you.

Holy fuck, this is real. There's nothing like the sensation of wiggler feet anywhere else in the world. This is real and this is your grub and- You start crying. Because of course you do. The grub chitters with concern, moves their soft body higher along your arm until they're perched on your shoulder. They lift their front two feet and, using them and their tongue, start  _grooming you._ Which, of course, makes you cry harder.

"Karkat?" Dave whispers. "You okay buddy?"

You nod and start using your other hand to scratch the wiggler- _your wiggler_ right between the horns. The other two grubs look at each other, and then back at the three of you, and then rush forward. They both climb up into your lap and start sniffing you and exploring you themselves. The one with the nubby horns manages to find their way under your shirt and fuck that tickles! You feel giddy, and it's probably not just the higher concentration of oxygen in here. You start laughing and chittering happily.

Wibbly either decides you're happy enough or gets bored. Either way, when John holds his arm out they hop right on and start getting to know him. The nubby one seems content to sit right between your shoulder blades, but the final one lets you scoop them up into your arms. You stroke their back gently. They're like a ripe peach, firm and just a little bit fuzzy. The grub just lies there, enjoying the attention. Dave reaches over and starts scratching the back of their head and then moves up to right between the horns. The grub purrs.

You all sit like that for a while, the six of you now getting to know each other. Then Wibbly starts exploring the carrier. Something inside catches their eye and they bolt through the opening. You hear a crinkling, a bit of frustrated chittering, and then the sound of ripping plastic.

"What the-" You peer inside. The grub is sitting on a bag filled with mealworms, triumphantly striking at the biggest ones through a roughly-torn hole.   

The other two catch on and race inside.

"God, which one of you two put food in there?" You demand, carefully reaching in.

"Oh yeah," Dave says. "Forgot about that. I thought if they didn't want to trust us we'd just bribe into the crate and hold them hostage for a while."

"That wouldn't be a bad idea, except-" You strike, grabbing the bag and lifting it. You turn it upside-down, shaking the mealworms out. One of them bites you anyway, trying to defend their treat. "Ow, fuck! I don't want them eating plastic."

Dave blushes. "I wasn't planning on leaving them in the bag…"

"Well, not much we can do about it now." Your hand's bleeding a little bit, but it's not too serious. You close the door. "At least they're all in here. Let's get them home."

"Do you want to carry them?" John asks, "Or should I-"

"I'll stay with them," you say immediately. "I mean, I can make the sounds they want to hear better."

Dave snorts. "Whatever you say, mom."

As soon as you lift the carrier, your grubs start screeching. The sound breaks your heart, even though hearing the others before was just annoying. Yeah, you've got it _bad._

"Shhhh," you say. "It's okay, I got you."

The grubs keep crying anyway.

"You're gonna be fine, okay?" Fuck, you're not even sure if they can understand a word you're saying. "We're taking you home. I know you'll like it."

They seem to be a little calmer. They're still whining, but they seem to have realized that they're not actually in danger. Or they're even more freaked out and trying to hide. You hope it's the former.

You sit in the back on the way home so you can keep talking to them, interspersing purrs every now and then. Their calls get softer and softer with more and more time between them until finally they stop.

"They've gone awfully quiet," John says after a few minutes, looking over his shoulder to see you.

"Of course they have," you reply. "They don't have the air to be active out here."

"Would it help if I made it more oxygen-y?"

"No, it might be better like this, actually." You poke your fingers through the holes in the side and start stroking the one you can reach. "If they're in a trance they won't freak out or accidentally hurt themselves."

"They'll be fine," Dave says. "First of all the only reason they made us wait this long to bring them home is so that their actual lungs are developed enough that they can put up with this for like twelve hours before anything bad happens. They'll be fine for fifteen minutes"

"How do you know?" John asks.

"Because about this time last year me and Rose went out and she had a little too much to drink and wouldn't stop complaining about it."

"Oh."

"And second, by the time changing anything will have any sort of effect we'll already be home."

You look up and, oh yeah, this is your street. When did that happen?

John leaps out of the car before Dave has it all the way stopped.

"Fuck," Dave grumbles. "I hate it when he does that."

"Maybe we can get him to stop when the grubs pupate so they won't hurt themselves?" You suggest hopefully.

"If I let him live that long."

You unbuckle the carrier and bring it into the house as gently as you can. John’s in the kitchen, filling the bottle for the grubs’ little fountain thing. He gives you a great big smile as you walk past and you return it with a weak one. Dave helps spot you through the hall and down to the basement so that you don’t accidentally bonk into anything. He opens the door and you carefully set the grubs down in their new nursery. John comes down, somehow balancing three grub dishes full of cut up fruit and the water jug. You and Dave help him get everything put back into place.

Well, you would have shat yourself with excitement to live here as a grub. The walls are a nice dark green (It was a compromise – John and Dave wanted _pastels._ For _grubs.),_ the floors are hardwood so they should be a little less cold but still easy to clean. You kept the dimmer lights from when it was a theater but moved the controls outside, so you’ll be able to slowly get them used to living on the surface and the idea of a day/night cycle. They’ve got a nice little fountain to drink from and play in, and way more toys than you could ever really imagine them needing but there were just too many cute ones in the store and all three of you kept buying them.

You hope they like it. God, you hope they like it. And you hope they’re still happy with you, even though you shoved them in a tiny box and whisked them away from their friends to parts unknown.

Maybe you should go get more mealworm bribes.

Uncertain chittering and chirping starts coming from the carrier as the grubs begin to wake up. Unsurprisingly, it's the wavy-horned one that sticks their head out first. It catches sight of the three of you and just stares for a moment, contemplating what to do next. You don't breathe. They look back over their shoulder and churr happily before prancing over towards the pile of nesting materials.

The other two appear a few moments later. Nubby gives the floor a cautious sniff and then makes their way towards the fountain. The final one actually starts scuttling towards you. They look back and forth between the three of you and then flop over on their side.

"What does that mean?" Dave whispers.

"I think it means 'I don't care who does it but I want attention,'" John says. He reaches out and lifts the grub. "And I haven't gotten to hold you yet, so hi!" He carefully sets the grub on his lap. "Do you like head scritches?" he asks. "Your troll dad likes head scritches." He scratches the grub between the horns and they start to purr. "Oh yes, there you go little guy… girl. Whatever you decide you want to be in two years."

You groan.

A loud ripping noise comes from the far side of the room. Oh, Wibbly found the paper towel. Nubby sprints over to help their sibling with the important shredding duties. Curvy considers it for a moment, but head scritches. They make the same call you would and stay in John's lap.

"You know," Dave says, "We should probably give them real names at some point. Because I keep calling them their numbers in my head and it just feels really cold."

"Really?" John asks. "Because I was going by horn shape since Rose called that one Wibbly."

Okay, thank god you're not the only one. Not that you're going to give Dave the satisfaction of telling him that. Instead you just say, "So we'd agreed on Devvan and Adrian, but now we need a third one."

"Hey, John," Dave says, poking him.

"No."

"Come on! You know how much I like that name. And Karkat likes it too, right?"

"I do like it too," you admit.  

John gives Dave an unimpressed look. "Do you think you'll be able to convince Rose and Jade that you were the one who insisted on it?"

"John, swear on my entire vinyl collection that I will take the blame for this for the rest of eternity. We even have Karkat to be a witness!"

John sighs. "Okay, fine. We can name one of them Kaisey."

"Fuck. Yes."

"Don't swear in front of them!" you growl. 

The grub in John's lap looks up at you with fear in its eyes.

"No, not you," you purr, lightly stroking their back. "You're fine." The grub calms down immediately.

"And I don't think this is really a Kaisey anyway," John says. "I feel more like Devvan for this one."

"I think you're right," Dave says.

"What do you think?" you ask. "Do you wanna be Devvan?"

The grub yawns and covers their face with their front legs.

"'I don't care,'" John says in a high-pitched voice. "'The human is warm and comfy.'"

You shrug. "That's as good as we're gonna get. Devvan it is. Now what about the other two?"

"Hey, Kaisey!" Dave calls.

The grub with the long wavy horns turns to look.

"Boom, they're Kaisey, so 964 is Adrian."

"I'm pretty sure that one would have looked no matter what you said," you grumble.

"Yeah, and how were you named?" Dave asks.

"It was the closest approximation to the noise my lusus made when he saw me…" you admit.

"And I have no idea where the hell Bro came up with David or Elizabeth."

"Relatives maybe?" John asks. "I mean, I was named after nanna."

"Maybe. Except I don’t know if he even had any relatives. I always assumed Bro was just raised by stray dogs or something. It would explain a lot. But anyway, this is a little less arbitrary than that."

"I guess," you say. "Should we gather them up and try to actually introduce the concept or-?"

John lets out an excited little gasp and whispers, "Guys, I think Devvan is asleep."

They have their eyes closed, their breathing slow and steady.

"I am never moving again."

Dave chuckles. "Maybe tomorrow, then. They've had a big enough day as it is."

Kaisey and Adrian dislodge themselves from their half-destroyed paper towel roll in favor of chasing each other across the little room as fast as their tiny legs and chubby bodies can take them.

"I wouldn't mind just watching them for a while," you say.

 _Or forever,_ you choose not to add. But you're pretty sure the other two can feel it anyway. They do nothing in agreement.


End file.
